


Minute Twenty-Three

by goinglegit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character(s), Nightmares, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9136174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goinglegit/pseuds/goinglegit
Summary: Overwatch didn't allow relationships among it's members? Fine. Then Junkrat and Roadhog would just pretend to hate each other until they became so useful that no one would even care that they were in a relationship and would just be glad that the two Junkers weren't yelling at each other anymore. At least, that's the plan. Whether they can keep up the charade is another matter.





	1. Fine

Junkrat had to admit, the first twenty-two minutes of being in Overwatch wasn’t too bad. Sure there was an actually bloody monkey wearing glasses which not a single one of the tossers cared to explain, but overall, not too shabby. It was a chance to _legit_ go legit this time. Well, as legit as something could be when it wasn’t supposed to even exist anymore, but the Junkers weren’t exactly picky. Also, they didn’t exactly have room to be picky even if they wanted to with the whole “jail or join us” junk the fuckers put on them. Still, a meal ticket and a guaranteed roof over their heads wasn’t something to spit at.

“Although we are not a sanctioned organization, Overwatch still operates under a strict set of rules which all operatives abide by-”

The monkey, ape, whatever he was, kept talking but Junkrat wasn’t paying attention anymore. The room they had been sat in was mostly made out of metal, pretty good metal at that. Junkrat bet that none of the Overwatch folks would notice if he took just a tad bit of it for his bombs. Besides, he and Roadie were part of the grand ol’ team now, weren’t they? And what do teammates do if not share their-

In the middle of his thought, the clock struck minute twenty-three.

“-Romantic and or sexual relationships are strictly forbidden between members of Overwatch.”

Out of all the things Monkey Man had said, this one sentence was the only one which got past Junkrat's mental barricade of his internal rambling and managed to explode right inside his head like one of his own bombs. Junkrat was glad the ape was turned around at that moment, otherwise he would’ve seen the way the two Junkers glanced towards each other, Junkrat himself mouthing a string of words that would make anyone not from Junkertown faint, or hurl, or maybe both.

When Monkey Man turned back around, still blathering on about rules, Junkrat was doing his best impression of what he thought someone paying attention looked like, which mainly involved nodding his head far too fast and making the frequent ‘uhuh’ sound. Roadhog, on the other hand, had the glass of water he had been given up to his mouth as if he was drinking, despite the fact his mask was still firmly pulled down over his face.

Nailed it.

“Winston!” someone called from somewhere in the base. Oh, so that was his name. Good to know. “Winston could ya come here for a tick?”

With a slight smile, Winston turned away from the two of them and made his way to the door. “Give me just a second, gentlemen.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Junkrat jumped up from his seat as if he had placed one of his concussion mines right under him. “Roight, time to go,” he said, grabbing his bag from the back of his seat. “Too bad we can’t stay. Coulda made something real nice out of all this.” Gesturing around to the room, Junkrat only turned back when he realized Roadhog had yet to move. “Oi, Roadie, you coming? Probably don’t have much time till that bloke comes back.”

Sighing, Roadhog remained still in his seat. “We’re not leaving.”

“Mhhm, mate, you heard the fella, didn’t ya?” Junkrat was pacing the room at this point, his peg scraping across the floor. Suddenly, he stopped in front of Roadhog, hunched over even more than usually and mimicked Winston’s voice. “Blah blah blah blah, no romance or sex shit, blah blah blah.” The impression was terrible, even Junkrat knew, but it got the point across all the same. “Less you forgot, we fall into both of those categories and they certainly ain’t gonna make no exception for us.”

Gently setting down his glass, Roadhog leaned back in his chair, the resulting groans from the seat echo throughout the room. “The agreement was join them or go to prison.They won’t let us get far.”

Junkrat started to pace again, running his hands through his patchy hair and mumbling to himself. Roadhog was right. They still had a bounty out for them, there was no way the bastards didn’t know about it. He was almost surprised that Overwatch gave them a choice at all, most folks would take the twenty-five million and not give a flaming shit about recruiting. Well fuck. Pouting, Junkrat threw himself down onto his seat.“Why couldn’t the tossers told us the rules of being in their shite club before we joined, huh?” he hissed. “What are we gonna do? Cause I don’t know bout you mate, but I’m not gonna let a couple o’ pricks end,” he paused, gesturing between them. “Us”.

“No,” Roadhog said without hesitation. “No they won’t.”

Time was running out. Winston was going to be back any minute. What were they supposed to do? They really didn’t have many options. Junkrat couldn’t really imagine the two of them just shaking hands and acting like all the fucking and I-love-yous never happened between the two like a couple of blokes after a quick shag. Honestly, he would have thought that Overwatch would be abso-fuckin’-lutely thrilled that he and Roadie were together. It could have been a lot worse in Junkrat’s opinion. Hell, things would be a roight mess if they were at each other’s throats all the time, in the un-sexy way, rather than simply being together.

For a second, Jamie’s brain processed through what he had just thought, sparks flying in his mind trying to light. Finally, the fuse was struck and with it came an idea.

“Why don’t we hate each other?” he blurted as if the statement needed no added explanation.

Even with just a tilt of his head, Roadhog conveyed such a wide range of emotions all without removing his mask. “What?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Junkrat rambled, giggling between words. “Listen, around all the Overwatch lot, we throw around some insults, call each other some names, make ‘em think we can’t stand each other. Then behind closed doors . . .” he wiggled his eyebrows and it earned him a soft chuckle from Roadhog. “It’s perfect. All we gotta do is keep it up til the drongos realize that they _need_ us. By that point, they aren’t gonna mind what we do cause we’ll be too valuable to loose!”

It was such a Junker mentality. Make yourself such an asset that people wouldn’t try to stab you in the middle of the night to steal your dirty water or trip you while running from some _other_ person trying to stab you to steal your dirty water. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, Junkrat wasn’t sure, he had never had a group to betray him in the first place. Neither had Roadhog for that matter. Or at least he didn’t think so. For the longest time, they had only had each other. Well until Overwatch ruined everything.

Finally, after what seemed likes hours, Roadhog nodded with a grunt. “Alright.”

With a grin, Junkrat planted a kiss on the side of Roadhog’s mask only to be met with a gentle push back. “People who hate each other usually don’t kiss,” he stated.

Rolling his eyes, Junkrat plopped himself back in his seat. “Pfft, could just tell ‘em it’s an Aussie thing. Kissing your enemies and all.”

Roadhog didn’t even say anything. Just sat there and stared at Junkrat til he relented.

“Fine, fine,” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “None of the fun stuff.”

With timing that the two Junkers couldn’t have planned better, Winston came back into the room at that moment to the sight of Junkrat scrunched up in his chair scowling and Roadhog apparently emotionless, sitting still and silent.

“Sorry about that,” Winston said as he glanced between the two. “Now, do either of you have any questions?”

“Oi, yeah, I got a question for ya,” Junkrat piped up with a raised hand. If they were going to pretend to hate each other, best start to right then. “Got any ear plugs or something. Cause this heifer here snores like nothing else and if I have to share a room with this-”

“Oh you don’t have to share a room, I assure you.” Winston interrupted. “You both will get your own rooms.”

Next to him, Junkrat could hear the dangerous creak of Roadhog’s chair as his grip on the seat tightened. He hoped Winston wouldn’t notice. Junkrat also hoped that Winston wouldn’t notice the way his own eyes darted around the room, trying to pick something to anchor himself that wasn’t Roadhog. This was fine. Absolutely fine. They were both adults. They could sleep apart. Easily. No problem. Overwatch was safe. They wouldn’t just let any random tosser who knocked into their base. Probably. He and Roadhog would be perfectly fine without each other. Yep. Fine.

“Good. I won’t have to hear your voice anymore,” Mako said suddenly, voice gruff. He didn’t even look at Jamie as he spoke.

It was just an act, Jamie had to remind himself. It was just an act. He didn’t mean it. With a breath and frown, Junkrat turned back towards him. “Well you’re not exactly a fucking delight to be around either, ya cunt.”

The room when oddly silent, the only sounds muted and dull and coming from somewhere far off in the base. It was like they were underwater.

“Okay . . . ” Winston trailed off, pushing his glasses up his face. “I’ll show you to your rooms now.” Junkrat couldn’t imagine what the gorilla was thinking. Hopefully it was something along the lines of how much he and Roadhog obviously hated each other. On the other hand, there was an equal chance that he was thinking about bananas, so he just had to hope it was the first one.

As they were led to their respective rooms, he was pretty sure the other members of Overwatch were watching him. Well, he couldn’t exactly tell with some of them, like the fella wearing a pair of shitty looking red sunglasses, but even if he wasn’t staring, he still seemed like a cunt. In response Junkrat sneered at them and pulled down his bottom eyelid with his middle finger like the perfect gentlemen. By the way some of the faces watching them contorted in confusion, he would say his point was well received. Perfect.

Finally, they arrived at a plain door lined up next to a dozen other plain doors. All metal. Didn’t look too strong. He could probably make short work of one the walls and just connect his and Hoggie’s rooms through less conventional methods. Junkrat let out a giggle at the thought. The Overwatch blokes would have to try a lot harder to actually keep the Junkers apart.

Handing Junkrat a small piece of paper with a string of numbers on it, Winston explained how he’d have to type in the code into the keypad whenever he wanted to get into his own room. Despite his bloody awful memory, Jamie wasn’t too worried about remembering the code. He could always just knock on Roadhog’s door and get the code from him. That or go through the hole in the hall he was making as soon as the fucking monkey actually left them alone.

However, any thoughts of blowing up Overwatch’s walls went up in smoke as he watched Winston say goodbye and then lead Roadhog to his own room. His own room _not_ right next to Junkrat’s. His own room in a different fucking hall.

Silently, Junkrat watched as Roadhog lumbered away from him. This was fine. Completely fine. Totally fucking fine. Who cared if he and Roadie weren’t in the same room or the same hall or that they were going to have to pretend that they hate each other for months? Not him. Nope. Jamison Fawkes didn’t care one bit. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice Mako briefly pause before he turned the corner, and while Winston was looking away, formed his hands into a little heart for such a brief second that a misplaced blink would have made him miss it.

Turning bright red and giggling like nothing else, Junkrat did the gesture back just as Roadhog disappeared from sight.

Yeah, this was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So throughout the fic, whenever it's from Junkrat's pov, he'll mostly refer to other Overwatch members by nicknames he's come up with for them, which is partly based on when I was first introduced to Overwatch and I couldn't remember any of their names so they got called "Cowboy" or "Angry Grandpa".


	2. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in a long time, Roadhog is alone.

As soon as Winston said goodbye and his door shut behind him with a resounding thud of finality, Roadhog took of his mask, looked in the mirror and was met with a scarred face filled with dread.

He was alone.

Since becoming Junkrat’s bodyguard, the two had never slept out of eyesight of each other. Never. Hell, they were barely separated when they were awake. Then, once their relationship developed into something beyond that of boss and employee, they always shared a bed. Roadhog couldn’t even remember the feeling of sleeping without Junkrat curled at his side or lying on top of him. 

Sitting down on the bed, Roadhog swept a tired hand across his face and reminded himself that they didn’t really have a choice. Overwatch or prison. That was it. Although Roadhog hated to admit to defeat, he knew when they were shit out of luck. Maybe they could make it out of the base. Maybe they could put some distance between them and Overwatch. Maybe. Problem was, he knew that Overwatch were a bunch of persistent bastards. They would never just let the two Junkers go.

He had to wonder if he could convince Overwatch to move his room closer to Jamie’s because he was still technically his bodyguard. It wasn’t like the bounty hunters would simply shrug their shoulders and give up now that they were apart of Overwatch. There would always be someone after the two. However, thinking upon it further, Roadhog decided that no, they probably wouldn’t move him no matter what. They had to already know that Roadhog was Junkrat’s bodyguard. It was plastered all over the news. Honestly, they probably split them up on purpose to minimize the danger they could do together. The bastards.  


Slinging his bag from over his shoulder, Roadhog opened it up and took out nearly everything he owned. There really wasn’t much. Some leftover snacks, a few pachimarhi, spare bits of scrap, a canister or two of hogrogen and a handful of patches that were still waiting for a hole in their clothes to cover. He smiled down at one of the patches- It was shaped like one of Junkrat’s bombs. He hadn’t had the chance to add it on to his vest yet, but now that he had some time, he could easily attach it. 

Just as he was considering putting the distinct yellow bomb on the top left of his vest, a question dashed through his head. Would sewing Junkrat’s symbol right onto his clothes for all to see be a dead giveaway to Overwatch that they were lying about hating each other? People who can’t stand each other usually didn’t wear each others emblems after all.

With a shake of his head, he put the patch back in his bag. All of this was going to take some getting used to. It wasn’t like he and Junkrat were going to be snogging around the base in front of everyone and calling each other sickly-sweet pet names if Overwatch _had_ allowed for relationships. That just wasn’t his style. It was just the fact that they couldn’t do anything that they normally do. No sleeping together, no . . . well, _sleeping_ _together_. None of the little things like telling terrible jokes, painting each others nails or watching shitty infomercials late into the night huddled together. Nothing.

He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up. Junkrat either. Half the time, the other Junker was a brilliant liar, stuffing so much useless information around the lie that people got lost in what he was saying and looked over any red flags present. The other half . . . Well, to be blunt, he was just shit. Winking to Roadhog while talking, stacking impossibilities on top of impossibilities until the story crashed down around him and on some occasions just outright letting slip that he was lying. If he did any of these things here, they were fucked.

Shaking his head, Roadhog placed his mask back on and got off the bed with the intention to take a look around their new . . . home? Prison? He hadn’t decided yet. There weren’t any windows, so it certainly felt like a prison. Taking a deep breath, he walked down the hallway to a shared living space he had seen when Winston was showing him to his room. It hadn’t looked too bad from the quick glance he had gotten. Maybe he could do some of the things he used to do back when everything was  _ different _ . He hadn’t been able to cook an actual meal in years or just sit down and read a book without having to worry that he or Junkrat would die. Was there a library here? He knew it was more of a military base, but a library would be appreciated. 

Just as he rounded a corner to the shared living space, wondering if he’d be able to find a book around here and not really paying attention, Roadhog was met with the stale silence and averted eyes of people who had most certainly just been talking about him. Great. 

He didn’t look at them, or at least, didn’t let them know he was looking at them as he passed by. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Roadhog saw the way they watched him, saw the way they judged him. He just kept walking, not knowing exactly where he was going, just not wanting to be there. 

Continuing to wander the base, eventually Roadhog found himself with nowhere else to go but back to his room. Would prison really been worse, he had to wonder. At least there were things to do in prison and they could have made it out of a cell without much hassle. Then they could have at least been able to continue on with their crime spree, giving the whole bloody world a taste of what they had lived through, a taste of having everything taken away from you. Here, they had a better chance of drowning in the ocean than ever getting back to the life they both wanted.

He was getting closer to the shared living space again when a thought struck him. Why not hear what his ‘teammates’ thought of him? Going as silently along the corridors as he could manage, Roadhog settled himself in a position where he could listen to them, but hopefully, they couldn’t hear him.

“Not to be rude or anything, but does anyone else think that bringing them here wasn’t the best idea?”

He couldn’t tell who was talking, introductions hadn’t been high up on Overwatch’s priority list after all, but it didn’t matter. Not really. They were all the same.

Someone chuckled. “I do not even think they themselves wanted to be brought here.”

“Wasn’t there anyone else we could have gotten?” Another asked.

Well maybe more people would want to join if Overwatch weren’t a bunch a fucking cunts. Had they ever thought about that? Anyways, it wasn’t like he cared. These strangers could say whatever they liked behind his back or to his face, Roadhog had endured far worse under the oppressive heat in the outback. It would take far more than a few dulled words to get underneath his skin.

“You don't know, they might be good. Winston must have seen something in them to bother recruiting them at all”

Roadhog nodded. He liked this one.

“Come on, we should give them a chance.” Someone else piped in.

He liked that one too.

“Yes, they might be great assets to the team, but they also might be dangerous. I’ve seen their reports, I’m not sure how safe it is letting someone like J-” The person paused for a second as if trying to decide what to call him. “Junkrat,” they finally settled on, “handle deadly explosives.”

Softly, he could hear some of the others hum in agreement.

Whatever was said next, Roadhog didn’t hear it. Were they calling Junkrat stupid or just incompetent? A man who had survived the apocalypse for over two decades with nothing but his own cunning, who had built his own prosthetics and bombs and these strangers had the fucking gall to judge him. Now while Roadhog had no problem with these people saying things about himself, saying things about Jamie was where the line was drawn.

Stomping out from where he had placed himself, Roadhog made sure he looked every single one of those people dead in the eye as they silently watched him pass.

They might not be able to see his face, but he could see theirs, and he would remember them. He would remember every last one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to make the complaints about Roadhog and Junkrat from the other Overwatch members at least somewhat understandable because I couldn't imagine any of them purposely trying to be mean and I didn't want to make any of them be "the bad guy" just for the sake of the story. I hope I succeeded.


	3. Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eating diner with the rest of Overwatch might prove to be a challenge for Junkrat and Roadhog.

Bored.

Junkrat was so, fucking bored.

Only a few hours had passed since he had been brought to his room and he couldn’t stand another bloody minute of it. He had already counted how many steps it took to cross his room, then had done it again because he couldn’t remember what the number was. Still couldn’t remember, but the task had lost its fun.

Lying on his bed, Junkrat had to wonder what Roadhog was doing? Was he bored? Had these Overwatch blokes given him a single bed? Was his room dusty? How many canisters of hogrogen did he have left? Was Roadhog missing him too?

While thinking, Junkrat hadn’t even noticed the tissue he had been ripping to shreds in his hands. With a huff, he threw all the white bits of fluff into the air and just watched as they rained down around him. Oh if he and Roadhog ever got outta this hellhole, they were booking it as far away from these cunts as they could get. Maybe they could pop by England again or maybe they’d pay a visit to good ol’ Australia, see how those pompous gits living it up in those big cities were doing after they let so many folks steal and starve and suffer in the Outback . . .

Junkrat was ripping up another tissue.

He hadn’t even remembered grabbing this one.

Suddenly, a knock at his door had Junkrat bouncing up from his bed. Roadie had come to see him! He really  _ had _ missed Junkrat too! Who even cared that they weren’t really supposed to be seeing each other? Not Junkrat, that was for sure! Rushing over to the door and throwing it open, a grin plastered on his face, Junkrat was seconds away from tugging Roadhog into his room when he was met with what he could only describe as ‘Cunty Grandpa’. He was pretty sure this was the guy he had seen wearing red sunglasses indoors earlier. Yep, definitely Cunty Grandpa.

“Oh,” was all he said as his smile vanished from his face. Well, there was no point in letting out the air for Cunty Grandpa, so Junkrat simply slammed the door shut.

He made it three steps before there was another knock on the door, this time much louder. Wow, Cunty Grandpa sure was persistent. For a second, Junkrat considered just ignoring him, but yet another knock made him groan and go back to the door.

“Oi, ya need something?” the Junker asked as came face to face with Cunty Grandpa again.

The guy mumbled something under his breath and then straightened his back. “Dinner’s ready.” Then, he just walked away without another word. Wow, rude?

Junkrat thought about not going. What made them think that he even wanted to eat their crummy food? It was probably shit anyways. However, he was a bit hungry and even it was terrible, it wasn’t like the Outback was known for its fine dining or nothing. Besides, he wasn’t going to let Roadhog face off against Overwatch all by himself.

Without another thought, Junkrat opened the door and followed the smell of food and the sound of jingling silverware to the dining hall. Upon arriving, his first thought was about how fantastic the food smelt. It didn’t even have the underlying scent of burning or mold that he was so used to in his food. However, the second thought Junkrat had was how everyone was sat together at one big table. Welp, this certainly hadn’t been what he was expecting. He was thinking it’d be more of a, ‘Everyone grab their food and then head back to their own room’ type of deal. 

There were two empty chairs left, each at the opposite ends of the table. Guess those were for him and Roadhog. He suddenly stopped. Oh fuck,  _ Roadhog _ . Last he checked, it was a bit hard to eat wearing a mask and there was no way Roadhog was gonna take off his mask in front of these strangers. Hell, it had taken the other Junker a fair while to even partially remove the mask in front of just Junkrat. 

“Move.”

Jumping slightly, he whirled around and found himself staring up at none other than Roadhog himself. Junkrat glanced around and noticed that he was blocking the entrance to the dining hall, just standing there for who knows how long.

“I said,  _ move _ .” Roadhog grunted and pushed past Junkrat. 

Oh yeah, they hated each other. He had almost forgotten. “Oi, sorry mate,” Junkrat said, rubbing his shoulder as if the light push had actually hurt. “Thought that maybe I was doing ya a favor. Didn’t think you really need more food or nothing.”

At the table, someone started to choke.

He only hoped that the choking was from shock and not from laughter, because if it was from laughter, he would have needed to go over there and choke them himself.

See, Junkrat knew that he didn’t mean what he said. Hell, he had barely been able to force the words out of his mouth. Although this was far different from the usually banter, Roadhog still knew that he didn’t mean what he said. Or at least, Junkrat sure hoped Roadie knew he wasn’t being serious. But these people? They didn’t know. They thought it was being serious. So if they laughed, there would be a . . . problem.

Lucky for the bastards, Jamie was in no position to shove a bomb right into their  mouths and instead settled for dropping down into his seat. Across the table, Roadhog did the same. Glancing around the room, Jamie took the chance to think of all his options. If Roadie just got up and left, people might get suspicious. Where was he going? Why didn't he want to eat with the rest of 'em? Was he planning to steal something while everyone was stuffing there faces? Also, that would mean that Junkrat would be left to fend off stupid questions by himself and he _really_ didn't want that. Okay, all he had to do was figure out some way to get the both of them away from the table without anyone thinking there was something going on. Easy.

Reaching for any food in arms reach, Junkrat piled his plate with his bare hands all while ignoring the gaping mouths of the people around him. Oh this was going to be over quick. They looked like they were just going ask him to leave and save the Junker the trouble of doing anything else. Unfortunately, just as the man two seats down, who was wearing some godawful hat out of choice it seemed, opened his mouth to hopefully tell him to leave, the Brit started to make conversation.

“So, are you two settling in?” She asked, obviously trying to defuse the tension. “Everything all right?”

“Oh yeah, roight as rain.” Junkrat said with a leer. “Well, not  _ your _ rain, mind ya. More like rain that’s gonna melt ya skin off and kill ya if you’re one of the unlucky bastards caught in it. It’s a real pain in the ass, if ya know what I mean.” Smiling, Junkrat watched as the most of the table rubbed their temples or just stared at him.

The Brit managed a smile. “Okay then.”

In his seat, Roadhog was just sitting there, plate filled with food but making any move to take off his mask. Junkrat knew someone was going to comment soon. He had to do something. Something smart. Or stupid. Or both.

With a handful of potatoes in hand, Jamie called out across the table, “Hey! Hey Roadie! Ya know what I mean, dontcha? ‘Bout the rain?”

Roadhog didn’t respond, but it did give Junkrat a chance to give him a quick wink. Excellent.

“Hey Hog, I’m talking to ya.” Then, with perfect aim, Junkrat threw the potatoes in his hand right across the table right onto Roadhog’s chest. He had considered going over the top of his head, but then it would have definitely splattered on the wall and then Cunty Grandpa probably would have made him clean it up and staying in there any longer was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

With a growl, Roadhog abruptly pushed back his chair and stood up. “You little brat,” he spit out, potatoes dripping down his chest onto his tattoo. Some of the others at the table quickly stood up too, looking like they were ready to break up a fight. Ooh, that wasn’t a half bad idea. Start roughing each other up to really make ‘em think they really hated each other. He would have to bring that up to Roadhog at some point. Couldn’t exactly do it then. Didn’t want anyone actually getting hurt or nothing.

Stalking over to him with his plate in hand, Roadhog stopped right in front of him and while looming over him, took some of the mashed potatoes and smeared them all over Junkrat’s exposed skin.

This time, someone actually did laugh.

With not another word, Roadhog left the dining room and no one tried to stop him. Junkrat could not help but let the barest hint of a smile cross his dirtied face. He loved when his plans when off so bloody beautifully.

“Think I'm gonna go wash up,” Junkrat said as he smothered a giggle. As he grabbed his plate, Cunty Grandpa looked like he was going to jump across the table and strangle the Junker right there. Luckily, the lady in the eyepatch just shook her head, whispered something and got him to sit down. In thanks, Junkrat did a mock salute but quickly turned away at the look she gave him. Okay, Eyepatch could be nice, but could also murder him. Good to know.

Whistling to himself as he made his way down the twisting hallways, Jamie stopped abruptly when he turned the corner to find Roadhog waiting for him. 

“Thanks.” Roadhog said, soft and low.    


Making sure it was all clear first, Junkrat smiled and took a step closer. “Hey, no problem mate.” He took another step forward. “We might want to come up with some other way to get outta there next time though. I ain’t gonna be throwing food at you every night or nothing.”

From underneath his mask, Junkrat could hear a faint chuckle and it made something in his chest flutter. “Just maybe.” Roadhog shuffled closer. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” He asked, concern all jumbled up in his voice. “When I pushed you?”

“Pfft, nah mate,” Jamie assured him, watching as Roadhog breathed a sigh of relief. “Ya gonna need to do a lot more than that to give me a scratch.”

They were standing very close to each other. Jamie wanted to do a million things in that moment and then a million more after that. He didn’t though. He didn’t do any of them. Which, really was a shame cause some of ‘em were  _ real _ nice. Instead, he took a breath, stepped back and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, have a nice supper.”

“Guess we can’t really eat together, can we?” Roadhog said it like it was funny. Junkrat didn’t find it funny.

“Guess not.”

For a few second, they both stood there in silence. Junkrat was waiting for Roadhog to leave first, but knowing Roadhog, he was waiting for Junkrat. Finally, after giving each other a weak wave good bye, they both turned around and went back to their rooms.

As Jamie sat in his room eating his food alone, all he could think about was Roadhog sitting in his room eating his food alone too. Well, that and how this was only the first night of many, many more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At any point during that dinner, Jamie was about twelve seconds away from straight up being murdered. Luckily for him, everyone was told to give the Junkers some leeway otherwise this whole thing would have ended with Jamie getting an arrow to the face for sticking his grimy hands in the mashed potatoes.


	4. Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overwatch battle simulations are overwhelming for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for lines of dialogue straight from the game? I hope you are! Also, people "die" in this chapter, but it's just a simulation. So I mean, technically there's character death, but no one actually dies or even gets injured, so I think its good.

“Guess we know who's really on top, don’t we?”

Those words were ringing in Roadhog’s ears as he was brought back to the spawn room. Well, the ringing could have also been due to the bombs thrown in his face, but honestly, the words seemed more dangerous in that moment. It had been just over two months since he and Junkrat were forcibly conscripted into Overwatch and things were starting to be somewhat normal. Most of his time was either spent in his room reading as he had  _ finally  _ found a small library in the base, or working out. Roadhog had been in brief conversations with Zarya and Reinhardt and he half believed that with time they could actually be . . . Acquaintances? Friends? He wasn’t sure yet. Jamison was such a large part of his life and he was hiding that part from them. It felt odd.

Junkrat too was starting to interact with some of the other members- Lucio and Hana mostly. Everything was almost okay. No one suspected that he and Jamie felt anything other than intense hate for each other. However, the training sessions, which he still wasn’t quite sure how they worked, were looking like they just might bring all they had worked for crashing down around them.

Maybe the others wouldn’t take the comment as sexual. Yeah, being ‘on top’ had a lot connotations. Not all of them dirty. Junkrat could have been poking fun at him, trying to rile him up. People would believe that. Hopefully.

Getting back out into the match, Roadhog tried to just concentrate on taking out the enemy team. This was the first match the two junkers had been in together. Most of the time they were split up during practices. Maybe that had been for the best. Instead of focusing on winning, most of his time was spent wondering how people would perceive Junkrat’s comments and it showed.

As he hooked and shot his away across the map, he was thankful he hadn’t come across Junkrat again. Everytime he killed the other junker he felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew it wasn’t real. They had assured Roadhog that no damage was actually done, but it still felt wrong to kill the man he swore to protect.

As these thoughts swirled through his head, Roadhog suddenly saw Junkrat not to far away from him, looking in the opposite direction and bringing down a storm of bombs onto some poor unfortunate soul. Killing him would almost be too easy. Bringing up his scrap gun and aiming right for his head, Roadhog hesitated for just a second or two. Jamie would be fine. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

Those few seconds were a mistake.

D.VA’s fusion cannons didn’t hurt when they took him out, but the shock of ‘dying’ still hit Roadhog full force. Fuck. Once again, Roadhog was sent back to the spawn room with Junkrat’s voice playing in his head.

“Hey! I'm the only one who gets to kill the big lug.”

Well . . . Okay, that one certainly wasn’t as bad as the other one, but it still had the potential to cause trouble. Maybe no one heard him, not even D.VA. Yes, he had yelled it at the top of his lungs, but that didn’t mean . . . Who was he kidding? Everyone had heard that.

The rest of the match went by in a blur. Roadhog wasn’t even sure which team won. He didn’t really care either. He just wanted the simulations to be done so he could go back to his room and finish his book so he could block out the memories of shooting Jamie full of shrapnel.

Unfortunately, Overwatch seemed adamant about never giving Roadhog what he wanted as he was thrust into yet another match, this time with Junkrat on his team.

As the match started, it went about as well as Roadhog could have imagined. It seemed at every chance he got, Junkrat was whittling away at the lie they had crafted away. At one point, he tried telling their teammates about a joke Roadhog had told him and all he could do was bark out for him to shut up. They had been doing so well up until then, Mako couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong.

Luckily, he actually got a chance to ask him during the match. They both found themselves alone in the spawn room at the same time. 

“Ju-” was all Roadhog managed to get out before Jamie interrupted.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I know I’m mucking everything up and saying things that I ain’t supposed to, but it’s  _ hard _ .”  Running his hand through his burning hair over and over again and speaking like someone had sped him up, Junkrat seemed like he was about to explode himself. “I keep forgetting, ya know? There’s just too much of everything and I can’t remember to hate ya if I’m trying to remember where I need to go and what I need to do and who’s on our team and who’s trying to murder me. I’m sorry, I can’t.” He took a deep breath. “I just can’t.”

Suddenly, Mako felt so much worse than when he watched Junkrat die. Had he really been so caught up in their charade and the fights that he didn’t even take into account how overwhelming all of this was for Jamie? In that moment, Roadhog just felt exhausted and from the look on Junkrat’s face, the feeling was mutual. Keeping up the lie was draining, but it wasn’t like they could stop. They were too far gone.

“Jamie, you’re doing your best and that’s great,” Mako assured him, watching as his face faintly lit up at these words alone. “Don’t worry about lying during matches anymore, okay?”

Looking confused, Junkrat began to protest. “But what if they find out, well, cause of me?”

“They won’t.” For once, Roadhog wished he wasn’t wearing the mask, just so Jamie could see his smile. “I’ll do all the talking for the both of us.”

With a short, genuine laugh that Roadhog hadn’t realised how much he had missed, Junkrat raised an eyebrow and gave him a teasing look. “Will ya now? Cause you’re just known for your sparkling conversations?”

“You’re one to talk,” Mako teased back, the match essentially forgotten. He was just thankful none of their teammates had died during their chat. This would be harder to explain. “I once saw you have have a five minute conversation with a dead body.” 

“To be fair, he was a marvelous listener.”

Now this, this was what Roadhog was used to. He would have killed to go back to this. However, if they didn’t want to be the ones killed by their teammates for leaving them, they really needed to get back out there. 

In the distance, someone screamed.

Yep, they definitely needed to get back out there.

As they headed back out into the fray, Roadhog turned one last time to Junkrat. “Hey. Stay out of trouble.”

“I’ll be on me best behavior,” Junkrat promised, but the grin on his face and the way he cackled as he ran off into battle didn’t reassure Roadhog in the slightest.

_ Thwunk! _

Barely turning in time, Roadhog just caught a glimpse of an arrow protruding straight out from Junkrat’s chest as he stumbled backwards. There was no thought that went into his actions, no hesitation. He simply reacted. Pushing Junkrat behind him, Roadhog felt the arrows lodge in his chest. He didn’t care though. They were out in the open, nowhere to run without Junkrat getting shot again. Well shit. As he scanned the horizon for the shooter, he could hear the way Junkrat’s breath stuttered and shook. Dying. Junkrat was dying. In real life, none of this would be a problem, but everything in the simulation was  _ off _ . After a certain amount of shots, no matter where they struck, they would die. Roadhog just had to make sure that last shot never met Junkrat.

All he needed was for the sniper, Hanzo if he remembered correctly, to give away his position and Roadhog could get him. Come on, just one arrow. Just one.

At that moment, an arrow did burst from Hanzo’s bow, just not where Roadhog was expecting it. From behind him, he heard one last arrow strike Junkrat. Hanzo had snuck behind him. Of course he had snuck behind him. Of course.

Watching as Junkrat’s lifeless body faded from the simulation, five words passed by his lips and with each word, Roadhog felt more hollow.

“Someone finally shut him up.”

* * *

 

Roadhog was stood in Junkrat’s room, watching as the younger man’s chest rose and fell with each sleeping breath. The scene was a familiar one. Back when they were crossing the Outback, they would take turns keeping watch as the other slept and although back then it was just a matter of making sure his boss hadn’t died in his sleep from the radiation, now it was out of love.

How long had he been standing there? He could barely even remember even going into Jamie’s room, the memory just a hazy blur in the back of his head. Looking around the room, Roadhog couldn’t even tell what time it was. The light slipping in through the window and spilling onto the floor was murky, not really giving any indication of whether it was dusk or dawn or somewhen in between. He hadn’t even realised that Junkrat had a window. Mako’s room certainly didn’t have one.

As Roadhog stared at the window, it suddenly burst inward and showered glass across the room. What the fuck? He had been hit. He must have been. The room was too small for it not to have hit him. Still, he hadn’t felt even the smallest prick from the glass. Nothing was making sense.

With no warning, two masked people repelled into the room. Why weren’t the alarms going off? Overwatch had to have some security system, didn’t they? But no, no sirens shrieked, no red lights blazed to alert the base. No, something much worse echoed up in the small room.

Junkrat started screaming. The scream did what the glass shards had not- Hurt. Hearing the wailing, Roadhog felt as if he was choking on hot coals. It didn’t seem real. None of it. The two intruders went over to his bed and dragged him to the floor by his left leg, his other one and his right arm without their prosthetics. 

Roadhog could not move. No matter how much he willed his legs to move, his mouth to open up in a scream, he could do nothing. Standing helplessly, Roadhog watched as Jamie reached for his prosthetic and began to bash the two dragging him across the floor towards the window upside the head. Where had he even gotten that? Roadhog hadn’t even see the prosthetics before then. Neither of the two faceless kidnappers seemed deterred in the slightest by being smacked by a metal leg though. In fact, one of them grabbed the leg out of the junkers hand and snapped it in half, the bolts and screws falling around Junkrat like acid rain. Scratching at floor, Junkrat frantically looked around the room and finally his golden eyes fell on Roadhog.

“Help me,” he screamed as he tried to twist and turn and thrash in their grasp. “Mako! Help me!”

Suddenly, Roadhog found himself moving across the floor towards Jamie. No, this was wrong. Everything was wrong. It was as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. He was walking towards him and walking and walking and walking and walking. When did the room get so long? Would he even get to Jamie before he was dragged out the window to who knows where? Who were these people anyways? Bounty hunters? Junkers? Talon? Roadhog had no clue. They didn’t even have faces.

Finally, Roadhog found himself standing right about Jamie. At that distance, he could see the tears which welled in his eyes and gushed down onto his cheeks. He tried to will his hand to reach out and grab Jamie, but instead, he saw himself reach to his side and pull out his gun.

His gun? His gun had been in its holster the entire time? Why hadn’t he used it? Well, no matter. Mako had it and he was going to use on these bastards who thought they could hurt the man he loved. Oh, he was going to love seeing the scrap lodge right into their soft skulls and then-

He was lowering his gun. Why was he lowering his gun? Why couldn’t he control his body? Why had the people stopped moving? Why was he  _ still _ lowering his gun? Watching as the gun continued to lower, Roadhog felt his body go ice cold as Jamie’s face was mere inches away from the barrel.

“I’m tired of hearing your voice,” he growled and then shot Jamie in the head.

Jolting up from his bed, Roadhog felt as if his lungs had shriveled up in his chest. He gasped for air, trying to yell but only pained wheezes came out. His mask. He needed his mask. Scrambling in the dark of his bedroom, Roadhog grasped for the mask on his side table and managed to fit it over his face. As he reached for his Hogrogen, images of Jamie’s skull shattering kept flashing through his mind.

Roadhog had killed him. He had shot Jamie at point blank in the head. Feeling like he was going to vomit, Mako took a breath of Hogrogen. Jamie was dead because of him. Not because he failed to protect him. No, because Roadhog had shot him. Why would he do that? Was he really that much of a monster that he killed the one person he truly cared about? He supposed he must be. Junkrat’s lifeless body proved it.

But, no . . . That didn’t make sense. Why would he kill Jamie? Shaking his head, Roadhog glanced around him and tried to get his bearings. He was in his room. His gun was on the table next to his bed. Through the smudges on the glass of his mask, he could see his hands and they were clean, no blood on them in the slightest.

It was a nightmare.

The thought rushed at him and it took Mako a few seconds to get his bearings. A nightmare. Of course it had been a nightmare. Looking back on the dream, it was so obvious that it hadn’t been real. As if Junkrat went anywhere without his bombs. He would have blown those bastards up and just gone back to sleep like it was nothing. The fact that he thought any of it was real was almost laughable. Almost. Still, the images, the emotions, they still left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

With his breath mostly settled, Mako gathered up the blankets he had thrown off in his sleep and laid back down. The only reason he’d even had the nightmare in the first place was because of the training earlier that day. What did he expect from watching Jamie die over and over again? He was fine now.  Everything was fine. He just needed to back to sleep and hopefully by morning, the nightmare would be forgotten. Except when he closed his eyes the sight that greeted him was not calming black, but instead the bloody image of Junkrat lying in the floor with scrap blown into his brain.

Fuck this.

Well Mako certainly wasn’t getting any more sleep, no point just lying in bed. Wearing only a pair of old sweatpants and his mask, he began wandering the halls of the base. Maybe he could get another book from the library and just read that all night. Yeah he would be tired as all hell come morning, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t gone longer in the Outback without sleep. Besides, there weren’t any practices tomorrow, no one would notice if he just stayed in his room all day.

As he approached the common room, Mako could see the pale blue light and constant drone that must have come from a television. Great. He really wasn’t in the mood to interact with any of Overwatch. They would probably ask why he was awake and then pretend to care at whatever lie he came up with. Still, there was no part of him that wanted to go back to his bed. So with a deep breath, he trudged around the corner and was committed to not even give a glance to whomever was in the common room. Or at least, he was committed until he heard a familiar laugh.

Turning around, Mako saw Jamie wrapped up in a blanket in front of the television.

“Jamison?” He called softly.

Jumping up with a bomb in hand, Jamie spun towards him and looked ready to attack until he got a good look at him. “For fucks sake mate.” Jamie put down his bomb and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Don’t sneak up on a fella like that. I coulda blown ya back to Oz.”

Mako didn’t say anything. Seeing Jamie, hearing his voice, it was soothing. He just wanted to sit there with him, even just for a minute or two, and piece by piece drive out the nightmare from his brain.

“Oi, Roadie, ya missed some top notch stuff on here,” Jamie said as he pointed back to the television. Glancing at it, Mako saw some random commerical trying to sell some useless product. It reminded him of when the two of them would sit in whatever shitty motel they could find and then just make fun of the stuff people who had never wanted for anything convinced themselves they needed. “Ya should of seen this one thing earlier! It was the stupidiest shite I’ve seen in a-” Stopping suddenly, Jamie looked straight at Mako and cocked his head. “Hey, why ya awake?”

Mako sighed. “Nightmare.” He couldn’t bring himself to say more. He just felt drained.

Letting out a small “oh,” Jamie took on a brief moment of seriousness. “Which one?”

“New one,” Mako admitted. “I killed you.”

Another “oh”, softer that time. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the floor with me. It was late, maybe two in the morning. No one else would be awake. It couldn’t hurt to stay for awhile. Sitting down next to Jamie, he saw the other junker point to his head, a silent question. Mako nodded and after a few seconds felt long fingers gently run through his hair. 

This was nice, comforting. He could have stayed there forever, letting Jamie stroke his hair. For a moment, Mako half wondered if he was dreaming. How lucky was it that Jamie was also awake. Actually, that raised a good question.   


“Why are you awake?” Turning around, Mako saw the sheepish half-smile that Jamie tried to hide. That usually meant one thing. “Bad dream?”

Jamie shook his head. “Nah,” he said with a forced laugh. “See, the thing ‘bout nightmares is that ya can’t get ‘em if ya can’t go to sleep in the first place.” He said it like it was joke and by the way he looked at Mako, Jamie was waiting for him to laugh at the punchline. He didn’t laugh though. Not at all. Instead, he reached around and scooped Jamie up in his arms. Looking at him, really looking at him, Mako could clearly see that what he had thought had been soot was really dark circles. His eyes were no better. Bloodshot and crusty, it almost seemed like he hadn’t slept at all since they had been conscripted into Overwatch. 

“Have you not been sleeping?”

Squirming in his arms, Jamie refused to look him in the eyes. “Maybe,” he huffed.

“Jamie.”

“Fine,” he said. “Some nights, I ain’t got no problems and I’ll sleep like a corpse. Other nights . . .” He trailed off, toying with the fabric of Mako’s pants. “Other nights, hooley dooley, do I got problems. But hey, what's new?”

The sound of someone on the television over exaggerating dropping a bowl of chips was the only sound in the room.

This was what they had come to. They were two of the most wanted criminals in the world, stealing crown jewels and whatever they pleased and now . . . Now they were stealing moments together at two in the morning. Mako was sick and tired of it.

“You know what?” He said suddenly and Jamie perked up immediately. “No would notice if we spent one night together. Just one.”

Buzzing with excitement, Junkrat scrambled to turn off the television and grabbed his blanket. “These dipsticks wouldn't notice if we snatched the clothes right off their backs.”

With nothing in the room indicating they had been there at all, Jamie and Mako made their way to the younger junker’s room as quietly as possible. Which, ‘quietly as possible’ still meant talking in Jamie’s mind, but Mako figured that he was still quiet enough that no one would wake up.

“-So then I overhear some of them saying how they think  _ I _ took all the spare blankets from the closet cause I’m a “criminal” and shite. Which, I find insulting. I mean, if ya think ‘bout it, we’re all criminals since Overwatch ain’t supposed to be doing nothing no more, and besides, I’m pretty sure Hat Bloke went round robbing trains before and didn’t the Ninja Twins run a bloody criminal club or something? So really, singling me out as the only criminal is overlooking a fuck ton of other people round here and is frankly rude.”

Smirking at the rant, Mako typed in the code to Jamie’s room and only faltered when he glanced inside. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the large pile of blankets heaped on his bed.

“Huh?” Jamie looked over to where Mako was pointing. “Oh! Oh yeah, I never said I didn’t take the blankets, just that they shouldn’t be assuming it was me without no proof.”

For a few seconds, Mako stared silently at Jamie and then quickly brought him into the room before shutting the door. 

“Oh don’t tell me your mad at me for taking the blankets,” Jamie said as he watched Mako shake. “Wasn’t like they belonged to nobody.”

Mako wasn’t angry. He really wasn’t and he took off his mask to show Jamie. For the first time in a while, Mako was laughing. Laughing so hard that he couldn’t even hear the laughter for it all came out silent, which then caused Jamie to start laughing as well. This was such a  _ Junkrat  _ thing to do. He could only imagine Jamie sneaking what must have been twenty blankets back to his room by himself. How had no one caught him? 

After he had calmed down, he looked over at Jamie and smiled. “Missed you.”

The shade of red Jamie turned would stick in Mako’s memory for a while. “Missed you too,” he mumbled out. Making Jamie blush was always rewarding.

After that, Mako helped Jamie take off his prosthetics and placed them in arms reach of the bed. Better safe than sorry. Then, as he laid down on the bed, the extra blankets all pushed to the floor, Jamie climbed on top of him and positioned himself so his ear rested right above Mako’s heart. Placing one hand on Jamie’s lower back, Mako closed his eyes and the only thought that came to his head was how perfect this was.

They both slept right through the night, at ease for the first time since joining Overwatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this chapter back when I had never played Overwatch, so I didn't have a specific map in mind for the simulation. Also, now that I have played Overwatch, I know if I ever spent that long in the spawn room, there would have hell to pay.


	5. Scrapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe sharing a room for the night isn't the best idea when there are some key items left in the other person's room.

As Junkrat slowly woke up, all he felt was gentle fingers running up and down his spine and the general feeling of warmth. Damn, that was the best nights sleep he had gotten in a bloody age. So good, he could barely remember the previous night except in bits and pieces. Infomercials. No sleep. Mako. Nightmares. His room. Ah right, that explained everything. Letting out a content sigh, Jamie wondered how long he could just lie there. If he pretended to be asleep, then he could probably stay sprawled across Mako’s chest for at least another fifteen minutes.

“I know you’re awake,” Mako said softly underneath him. 

Well shit, there went his plan. Instead of making a move to get out of bed though, Jamie kept his eyes shut and clung tighter. “No I’m not,” he grumbled. “Don’t know whatcha talking ‘bout, mate.”

He felt the vibrations ripple through him as Mako chuckled. Then, he felt something entirely different as Mako shifted and let Jamie topple onto the bed. “Oi!” He said in a huff as he peered up at Mako in the dark. “I was sleeping, ya know?”

That earned him another laugh as Mako flipped on a lamp and bathed the room in a warm glow. “Course you were.” 

After handing Jamie his arm and then his leg, Mako made a move to stand. Oh there was no way Mako was leaving yet, not if Jamie had any say in the matter. He couldn’t go back to hating Mako that soon. He just couldn’t.

“Hey, hey hey,” Jamie said as shimmied to where Mako sat on the edge of the bed. “None of these drongos will be up for awhile.” He was right next to Mako’s ear now, whispering like he was telling a secret and he supposed he kinda was. “Why don’t ya . . . Stay? Just for a little while. If ya want.” Mako wasn’t moving, just sitting there in silence. Pressing his face into the crook of his neck, Jamie whispered out “please,” so softly he barely heard it himself.

Without a sound, Mako turned around and caused Jamie to fall back on the bed. He was just about to protest when he found himself with Mako leaning over him, their faces a few centimeters apart. “Just for a little while,” Mako repeated, his lips so close to Jamie’s own that he could see every little scar and mole that crisscrossed his face. He loved all of them.

That was all Jamie needed to close the space between them. Reaching up to wrap his arms around Mako’s neck, Jamie pressed their lips together and it seemed like the entire world shifted into a state of perfection. As his chapped lips moved over Mako’s smooth ones, Overwatch just didn’t exist to them anymore. There was no before or after that moment, no thoughts of pretending to hate each other, no stealing blankets to mimic the feeling of sleeping with a body underneath him, it was just them and it was perfect.

Gently, Mako rolled over so that Jamie was lying on top of him as they kissed. With his eyes closed, he felt rather than saw Mako’s hands rest on his hips and Jamie nearly let out a moan at that action alone. He had grown so used to Mako’s touch that even just two months without it had left Jamie starved for it. Ooh, and by the way Mako groaned when Jamie lightly tugged on his hair, he too had been left wanting.

How long was ‘a little while’ anyways? Fifteen minutes? Thirty? How long had it already been? It wasn’t like he had a watch or anything to keep track of time and even if he did, he was a bit busy to be counting seconds.

Well it certainly didn’t seem like Mako was planning on stopping either as he began to pepper kisses down Jamie’s neck in a trail that left him breathless. Suddenly, Mako began sucking softly on the patch right below his ear that he  _ knew _ was Jamie’s weak spot. As Jamie moaned, he felt Mako smile against his skin and reward him with a small nip. Oh so they were playing dirty, were they? That was more than fine to him. Jamie could play dirty too.

Running his nails over Mako’s back, not hard enough to hurt but just enough for him to feel it, Jamie grinned at the way Mako’s breath stuttered and caught in his throat.

Then it stuttered again.

And again.

And again.

Then the coughing started, loud and wet and heavy and a sign that the whole situation had just shifted straight into the territory of fucked .

“Oh shit,” Jamie said as he scrambled off of Mako and grabbed the mask sitting on the bedside table. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” Wow, first time in two months they had kissed and he went and sent Mako into an attack. Fucking radiation was still managing to screw them over even outside the Outback. Slipping the mask over Mako’s heaving face, Jamie watched as the coughing slightly got better, but not by much. This was a bad one, a real bad one. Ok, all he needed was the canisters. They were just over . . .  Wait. No. They didn’t share a room. He didn’t know where Mako’s canisters were. He didn’t know . . .

He began to panic.

“Where’s your-” Jamie’s hands flailed about, as if trying to get the words to come back to him. “Your gas! Your hogrogen! Where is it?”

Wheezing on the bed, Mako managed to get out between coughs the words “my” and “room”.

Well fuck him.

There was no hesitation in his actions. He simply leaped off of the bed, threw open his door and bolted out into the base in nothing but his underwear. Perfect. As he sprinted through the halls Jamie was just thankful that he already had on his prosthetics. Well, he was also thankful that it was early enough that no one else would be awake. He wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to explain his mad dash to Mako’s room, because he really was fucking booking it. The clang of his right leg smacking against the floor echoed around the base something awful and he hoped that no one woke up because of it.

Get to his room. That was all. Get to his room. Go down the hall, through the living area and get to his room. There was nothing else to it. Or at least, Jamie thought there was nothing else to it. For when he actually made it to the living area, he realized that it might have been a tad bit later in the day than he thought it was.

There were at least five people sitting around the room. All staring at him. Yep, definitely later than he thought. Welp, at least he didn’t have to worry about noise anymore. 

“Junkrat?” D.Va called out from the couch, her bowl of cereal forgotten in her hands. “Junkrat what are you-”

“No time to chat,” he yelled over his shoulder as he continued running. “Bye!”

Maybe no one would ask later on what he had been doing. Most people besides Lucio and D.Va stayed clear of him anyways. No one would go out of their way to confront Junkrat on why he had been sprinting through the halls in his underwear. Yeah, he would be fine. Hopefully.

Finally, he got to Roadhog’s door, helpfully marked by a small pink pig sticker on the bottom corner. Roadie had put it there just in case Jamie forgot which door was his in an emergency. As he reached for the handle, a feeling of dread poured down on him. The passcode. He didn’t know the passcode to open the door. Shit, he didn’t even time to go back and ask Mako for the code. He would have to get in some other way that wouldn't draw too much attention to himself. There was really only one thing to do.

Bringing back his right hand, Jamie punched the door with all his strength. He looked down and saw that he had left a dent right above the handle and muffed up the paint on his hand. Ok this could actually work. Swinging  again and again and again, he felt the vibrations travel up his prosthetics to his shoulder. He just thanked his bloody stars that he hadn’t tried doing this with his flesh hand. That might have been a bit messier.

With each strike, Jamie knew he was getting closer and closer to breaking the door down. Only a few more punches, just a few and he would be through. He brought his hand back for another blow, but as he brought it down he felt a large hand grip his arm tight and hold it back.

What the fuck? He looked back only to find the strong one with the pink hair gripping his arm. “Stop,” she commanded, her accent as thick as her hands. Jamie glanced around nervously. When did all these fucking people get here? They needed to leave. He needed to get Mako’s hogrogen. He tried struggling against her grip, but it was too strong. “I said stop,” she said again.

Off to his side, Hat Bloke started to approach him, but still kept a small distance between them. Probably trying not to spook him. “Woah there partner,” he said soothingly with his hands up. “Why dontcha take a breather for a sec. Don’t want to do nothing you’re gonna regret, now do ya?"

This was taking to long and there were too many of them. Jamie needed to clear them out and get that door down, right then and there. Suddenly, an idea sprang to mind and it took all of his willpower not to smile. “You’re roight, you’re roight,” he said, taking a breath. Luckily, this made the small crowd that gathered, most in their pyjamas relax a tiny bit. “Sorry if I scared any of ya.” Slowly, he brought up his left arm as if he was going to massage the place where metal met skin on his right. “Ya know how it can get.” Everyone was still staring at him and the woman still had his arm held tight. Ok, here came the tricky bit. “Thanks for the concern, but-”

Then, with no warning, Jamie just popped his arm right off.

Everyone reacted immediately. While Scary Pink Sheila stumbled back a few steps, all the rest gathered around lunged for him, but they were too late. By the time they had gotten close, Jamie had pulled a small bomb he kept for emergencies from a compartment on his leg and activated it. Suddenly everyone stopped. Then, everyone ran. They had probably seen enough of him in practice to know where this was going. Fuck stealth. Stealth was gone. Stealth was dead. He was gonna fucking blow stealth up.

“Fire in the hole,” he yelled as he placed the bomb on the door and began to run. Jamie could hear yells of how he was crazy, how he was going to kill himself, but Junkrat just laughed. He wouldn’t let these cunts get in the way of helping Mako. No, they wanted to recruit him, they had wanted him for what he could do, so Jamie would show them exactly what he could do.

Down the hall, the lovely musical sound of an explosion let him know that he could get into Roadhog’s room, while the sirens and flashing red lights let him know that company was coming. As he rushed into the room and grabbed a canister of hogrogen, he heard footsteps racing down the hallway corridor. If Mako wasn’t struggling to breathe in the hallway over, Jamie might have found all of this exhilarating. But seeing as that was the case, he felt more panicked at that moment. What was he going to do after he got to Mako? Maybe they could just stay in his room forever and never have to face Overwatch? Well, he didn’t have a better plan, so that one would have to do.

Jamie raced out of the room, barely dodging some of the other members just emerging from their room in a half-asleep state. Unfortunately, not all of them were just waking up. From down the hallway, the pounding of Scary Pink Sheila's feet as she surged towards him with his arm still in hand sent chills down his spine. Looks like he wasn’t going that way then. He spun around and began to sprint in the opposite direction of the very angry woman who looked like she was going to beat him to death with his own arm.

He came to another turn, but suddenly found himself with one of Roadhog’s friends blocking his patch, the one who somehow managed to be taller than Roadie himself. “Got you,” he yelled triumphantly as he lunged for Jamie. This was starting to feel like he was in the Outback again. Luckily, that time in the Outback taught him a few tricks. First faking to the right, Jamie slid right under the giant’s legs and continued on running.

Ok, now he had two large scary people with accents chasing him. Great. Just great. This really was just like the Outback. Just throw in some sand and acid rain and he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

The door was in sight. He was going to make it. Jamie was actually going to make it. After moving the canister so it was snug under his arm, he launched himself at the door and began punching in the code. 

1 . . .  Jamie could hear them getting closer. 

9 . . . Was he going to make it in time? 

7 . . . What happened if he didn’t? 

2 . . .  Shit, what was the next number? 

A five? Maybe?

Fuck it, why not? 

5 . . . They were really close at that point he could tell. 

He just needed the last number.

Just one more number.

Just one more. 

Just one. 

Mako was on the other side of the door.

Mako needed him. 

He pushed the three key and nearly screamed in relief when the keypad lit up green.

Throwing open the door and then slamming it shut behind him, Jamie dashed over to where Mako lay struggling to breathe on the bed. Oh it had gotten worse. It had gotten way worse. With no further mucking around, Jamie used all of the canister of hogrogen on Mako and hovered his hand over him, not knowing what to do afterwards.

“Ya alroight?” He said, voice shaking. “I’m so sorry. I shoulda been faster, but I didn’t know the code and Scary Pink Sheila got my arm and then I had to blow up ya door, sorry ‘bout that by the way, and then they were chasing me and-”

As he rambled on, Jamie took a few seconds to take notice of the hand cupping the back of his neck rubbing small circles into his skin. “Jamie” Mako said, voice still wheezy. Immediately, he stopped talking. “I’m fine.”

“But-”

“I’m fine,” He repeated, reassuringly. 

All at once, Jamie felt all the tension he had been holding just melt away. With a sigh, he leaned down so his forehead was resting against Mako’s while paying special attention to keep the respirators clear. “Ya scared me,” he said softly.

“Fawkes!” Someone suddenly yelled from outside, banging on the door for good measure.

Oh this was going to be hard to explain.

Another knock. “Open the door. Now.”

“Uh, no one’s home,” Jamie called out in panic. “Come back later!”

Feeling a large hand settle on his leg, Jamie turned back to look at Roadhog. “What do you want to do?” Mako asked softly.

Jamie sighed. “Faking our deaths ain’t no option, is it?”

Shaking his head, Mako glanced at the door again. “No.”

“Open the door!”

This was ridiculous. He was Jamison Fawkes for fucks sake. He shouldn’t be hiding in his room like some scared tyke. No, he was going to face them if it was the last thing he did.

Standing up with new resolve, Jamie started to make his way to the door. “Stay here. I got this.”

“Wait Jamie-”

It was too late. He was already swinging the door open. Smiling with an air of cockiness that was entirely faked, Jamie stepped into the hallway. Standing there in just his underwear, his right arm missing, his emergency bomb gone and the rest of Overwatch staring at him, Jamie suddenly felt very exposed. There was no where he could run or hide. Steeling himself, Jamie took a deep breath.  “G’day.” He gave a small wave. “Something I can help ya with?”

“What the fuck is going on?” Ah, there was Cunty Grandpa with all the grace and charm of a bucket full of lobsters.

Jamie hummed. “Don’t know whatcha talking ‘bout, mate.” Glancing down at his nails as he spoke, he noticed the paint was beginning to chip. Shame. He’d have to paint them again if he wasn’t hauled off to jail in the near future.

“Where is Roadhog?” Eyepatch asked as she stepped forward

“Roadhog? Roadhog. Roadhog~” Rolling the name around on his tongue, Jamie only stopped when Eyepatch reminded him with just a look that she wasn’t one for games. “How should I know? Not like I’m his babysitter or nothing.”

This time it was Scary Pink Sheila who spoke up. “You blew up his door. Two minutes ago.”

Why couldn’t they have just forgotten that part? It would have made things so much easier. “Ohhhhhh, _ that _ Roadhog! Psshh, why didn’t ya just say so? The big lug, well he’s-” What was he supposed to say? Oh yeah, Roadhog is right behind him in Junkrat’s own room after they spent the night together. That would go over well. “He’s probably on a walk . . . Ya know how he loves walking about . . . Looking at things . . . Walking.”

Eyepatch raised her eyebrow. “Walking?” She deadpanned. “And you used explosives on his door, because?”

Jamie didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be in his room away from all the eyes and eyes and eyes and eyes and eyes and eyes all just  _ staring _ at him. “Welp,” he started off, his hands fidgeting with themselves. “In Junkertown, when two blokes hate each other very much-”

Off to the side, Winston and Eyepatch glanced at each other and Cunty Grandpa sighed. “Alright, that’s enough,” he stated as he moved towards Jamie. “Everyone go back to your rooms and Jamison, come with us."

In life, there were quite a few things Jamie disliked, suits, acid rain, assholes who made fun of Mako, the sound of styrofoam cups being ripped up, shirts in general, the police, but at that moment, two things got bumped to the top of the list: Assholes using his first name and assholes telling him what to do.

“Nah.”

Not even a second passed before Cunty Grandpa surged forward and grabbed him by the wrist. It was times like these that Jamie was painfully reminded that he was still a commander, still a soldier and he would still kick his ass. Didn’t mean Jamie wouldn’t put up a fight though.

 Jamie struggled against the harsh grip. “Let go ya bleedin’ drongo!” It wasn’t like he was helpless when he didn’t have his arm or bombs, but he certainly didn’t have room to fight fair without them. Just as he was gearing up to headbutt Cunty Grandpa right in his cunty face, Jamie heard a noise behind him and then felt a large wrap around his waist and wrench him out of the other man’s grasp.

 “Don’t touch him,” Mako warned as he sat Jamie up on his shoulder. From up there, Jamie could clearly see shocked expressions and confused faces of everyone in attendance to their little spectacle. Which, seeing as Mako had just burst out of his room also wearing nothing but his underwear, Jamie couldn’t really blame them for being a tad bit confused.

 Opening his mouth and then shutting it a few times, Winston looked between the two with what Jamie could only describe as puzzled. “What is happening?” He questioned.

 Plain and simple, Mako responded as if asked what he wanted to eat. “We’re together.”

 With just two words, two months of lies came crashing down around them. Two months of restless nights and insults and loneliness and what did it amount to? Nothing. It was all for fucking nothing. 

 Who was shaking? Was it Mako? It might be himself, Jamie didn’t really know.

 “Um, sorry,” Hat Bloke said. He didn’t sound sorry though. “But what do y’all mean exactly by, together?”

 “Ya know, _together_.” Jamie made a few hand movements as he tried to balance on top of Mako which he thought made his point, but the confusion on all their faces staring at him made it apparent that they still didn’t understand. Groaning, Jamie rubbed his temples. He didn’t want to be having this conversation. “Romance and sex stuff, alroight? We’ve been lying to all of ya since the moment we got here ‘bout hating each other. We thought us being together would be better to all of ya than us hating each other, so none of ya would mind. Is that what ya wanted to hear? Cause there it is!”

 Silence.

 That’s all there was.

 It wasn’t a peaceful or comfortable quiet. No, it was the type of quiet found between the strike of lightning and the crash of thunder in Junkertown. Everyone would huddle together in their shacks, counting each shaking breath until the boom struck. It had always been torture to Junkrat. But this? Waiting for everything to come crashing down around them? It was so much worse.

 “Why?”

 The question took a few seconds to register in Jamie’s head. He wasn’t even sure who said it to be honest. It was such simple question, but at the same, not simple at all. Jamie didn’t even think before he opened his mouth. “Why?” He said in a barely there whisper. “Why?” He repeated, louder. “Why? Why. Why. Why! What kind o’ fucking question is that? Why! Why what?” Oh look at that he was yelling. Jamie hadn’t even noticed. “Why are we together? Why now? Why what?” 

 Suddenly, Mako’s hand on his knee quieted Jamie and all he was left with was his heaving chest and the constant mantra of why playing on repeat in his head.

 Through the haze, Jamie heard Lucio speak up. “I don’t get it, why’d you pretend to hate each other?”

 From Mako’s shoulder, Jamie could feel the vibrations course through him as Mako spoke. “Relationships are forbidden.”

 The reaction was immediate. The thunder had come.

 “Wait what?” D.va said as she whipped around to Winston. “When did we make that a rule?”

 “We’ve always had that rule in place,” Winston explained, his face still betraying his earlier shock.

 One of the ninja twins, the weird omnic looking fellow, piped up from the back. “To be honest, I do not remember this particular rule either.”

 “Nah, I remember that rule,” Hat Bloke countered.

 It seemed everyone started talking at once. Some remembered the rule. Some didn't. Some thought the rule had been removed. Some thought it had been changed. As people tried to make their opinions heard, Jamie could see the guilty glances between some members and he had to wonder if he and Roadie weren’t the only ones breaking the rules.

 “Winston, you’ve met my girlfriend,” The Brit stated. “You spent Christmas with Emily and I, relationships weren’t a problem then, were they?”

 Before Winston could get in a word, someone else jumped into the conversation. “What about my wife and kids? Are they ‘forbidden’ also?”  The man, who Junkrat was pretty sure had a name that started with a T- possibly Toby, maybe Tim, asked.

 At this point, Cunty Grandpa took over again. “The rule states that relationships are forbidden between members of Overwatch, so Tracer, Torbjörn, you all are fine. But you two-” He pointed at Mako and Jamie, “-We have these rules in place for a reason. You can’t possibly be impartial towards each other if you’re together.”

 From his perch on Mako’s shoulder, Jamie snorted. “That’s the reason for the rule? For fucks sake! What’s so great ‘bout being impartial anyways? Never did me a lick of good or nothing” 

 From the look on Cunty Grandpa’s face, he wanted this conversation to have ended two minutes ago and with every passing second that he and everyone else was stuck in the hallway in their pyjamas was another second closer to just shooting the two of ‘em and being done with it. “Every member of Overwatch must be ready to lay down their lives to protect the world,” He explained slowly. “Would either of you let the other sacrifice themselves for the greater good?”

 No.

It really was that simple. Jamie didn’t need time to sit and think and question the bloody pros and cons. The answer was no. Jamie wouldn’t let Mako go and off himself for no ‘greater good’. Hell, he barely let him get hurt to protect Jamie himself and he hired him to be his bodyguard. No way would he lose Mako for a few billion bastards who couldn’t give half a shit for two Junkers anyway.

 “Would you Ana?”

 It took a few seconds for Jamie to realize who Mako was talking to and a few more seconds after that to realise what point he was trying to make.

 “Excuse me?” Eyepatch- or Ana asked, her words sharp as she stared into his mask.

 Not faltering, Roadhog took a step forward while Jamie clung tighter as not to fall off. “Fareeha.” He stated. “Would you let her die for the _greater good_?”

 Before Ana could reply, Jamie jutted into the conversation. “Hey and what ‘bout the ninja twins? Ya expect them to be all impartial towards each other?” He paused for a second. “I mean, ya one of em did try and murder the other so maybe that ain’t the best example but whatever.”

 Mako took a step back and Jamie was only half sure that it wasn’t just to make sure one of the Ninja Twins didn’t try and take him out right then and there.

 Looking around at their teammates, Jamie took in every single confused face with glee he hadn’t felt in a while. For the first time in two months, he and Roadie actually had the upper hand and oh boy did it feel good.

 “So what’s it gonna be?” Jamie asked as he inspected his nails. “Since ya can’t really expect a mother and daughter or brother and . . . weird omnic brother to not be picking favorites or nothing and y’all are just so ruddy well concerned about being impartial, I ‘spose we’ll just have to separate everyone or do ya just kick one of em out? Cause ya know, I’ve got some suggestions on who-”

“Stop,” Cunty Grandpa said, but there wasn’t much force behind it. He sounded tired or maybe defeated, Jamie couldn’t decide. “Winston, Ana, we need to discuss some things. Everyone else, carry on.” With a nod towards the group, Cunty Grandpa walked away with the others without another word.

 As the rest all slowly left, Scary Pink Sheila came up to the two, handed Jamie his arm back, said a quick “sorry” and then left Jamie and Mako standing in the hallway alone. 

 It was over? It felt like the two of them had just gone through a battle, a two month long battle and it was all over. He took a few seconds to let it all sink in.

 “So,” Jamie drawled, leaning down so his breath tickled the other Junker’s ear. “Heard through the grapevine that your room might be outta commission for awhile or something.”

 “Really?” Mako asked and even with the mask, Jamie could tell that there was a small smile lingering underneath. 

 He nodded. “Oh yeah mate, apparently some _extremely_ handsome fella blew your door clean off and well, what kinda boss would I be if I let my poor, defenseless bodyguard stay in a room with no door? So outta the kindness of my heart, why dontcha stay in my room, ya know, for safety?”

 “Hmm,” Mako stood there for a few moments, pretending to think the offer over. “Tempting, but people might get the wrong idea. I hear that they don’t like relationships ‘round here.”

 Tipping forward so he fell right into Mako’s arms, Jamie grinned up at him. “Oh dontcha worry ‘bout that, something tells me that rule’s gonna be scrapped _real_ soon.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me so long to write! I could never decide how I wanted the confrontation scene to go down and I changed it three or four times. Also, after I had finished the chapter, I was thinking it over while driving and then suddenly yelled in my car "She never gave him his arm!" because I had forgotten to write in Zarya giving back Junkrat's arm. I'm glad I remembered that bit before I posted the story. Also, I don't think Solider 76 is a bad guy or anything, I just think Junkrat would just really hate him, hence the nickname.


	6. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing like sitting on a couch and watching terrible infomercials with the man Roadhog loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter everyone! This one's going to be short and sweet.

As his needle went in and out of the fabric of his vest, Mako briefly looked up from his stitching to watch as Jamie carefully painted his nails. With his tongue barely poking out from his lips, he had the same concentration as when he built his bombs. Neither spoke and Mako was fine with that. The tv provided a bit noise in the background as some man tried to sell a vacuum by sheer volume alone.

With Jamie pressed against his side, Mako felt a peace he hadn’t felt in years. They didn’t have to worry about where their next meal would come from or if the water would poison them or if the motel they stayed at would have Interpol or bedbugs hiding underneath the mattress or if Overwatch would find out about them now that some choice rules had been changed. They could just sit side by side, enjoying each other’s company.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mako saw D.Va and Reinhardt walk into the room as they chatted to each other. “Hey guys,” D.Va said with a smile and a wave as Reinhardt followed suit. “Oh Jamie, we’re still hanging out tomorrow, right?”

Next to him, Jamie gave Hana a thumbs up. “Course mate, wouldn’t miss it!”

Suddenly Reinhardt turned to Mako. “Oh yes, I nearly forgot my friend, Zarya has challenged me to an arm wrestling competition, would you like to attend and watch as I best her?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Sure,” Mako said, leaving out that he would bet his hook on Zarya winning that battle. Reinhardt didn’t need to know that though.

As the two of them walked out of the room, Solider 76 passed through, gave them a nod and a small smile and continued walking.

Once he was out of earshot, Jamie turned to Mako and made a small noise of contemplation. “Ya know, I think that old soldier man might not hate us so much.”

Nodding, Mako went back to his stitching. “Well you didn’t exactly give him a reason to like you. What did ya call him again?” 

“Psshh, that’s all in the past,” Jamie said with a wave of his hand. “Well unless he tries to get all grabby on me again, then he’s gonna get what’s coming to him.”

There was an unspoken agreement to Jamie’s words, cause no matter what, Mako would protect him. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Overwatch seemed fine with them now that they weren’t throwing insults and potatoes at each other. Still, if he was anything, Mako was not impartial and he never would be when it came to Jamie.

“Hey,” Mako said once he saw that Jamie was done painting his hand. “You like it?”

Jamie turned towards him and Mako could pinpoint the exact moment that he caught sight of the newest patch on his vest. Eyes and grin wide, Jamie reached out to touch the yellow smiley face sewn big and bright and proud and perfect right above Mako’s other patches. 

“Oh it’s lovely,” he practically squealed. “Been saving that one, have ya? Ya too good to me”

Smiling, Mako lifted up his mask so that his mouth was uncovered and then leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Glad you like it.”

For a few seconds, Jamie got this lovestruck look on his face like it was the first time they had kissed again. “Hey, want some paint?” Jamie finally asked as he shook the bottle of black nail polish in front of his face. Once Mako nodded, the other Junker went straight to work and began lovingly painting each and every nail, not even getting the barest hint of paint on his skin.

Roadhog had to admit, the first two months of being in Overwatch were pretty bad. Sure there were a few moments they got to spend together which were nice, but overall, not too great. However, now the other members of Overwatch were beginning to warm up to them, things were starting to look up. Maybe it was because the emotionless murderer persona Roadhog had crafted around himself was slowly being torn down and Mako was beginning to show through. Maybe it was because that he and Jamie made way for others in Overwatch to form relationships previously banned. Maybe both. Whatever it was, the stares that had met them upon joining had ceased along with the hushed whispers.

“I love ya,” Jamie suddenly said as he finished up his pinky.

Smiling, Mako brought the other Junker closer to him. “Love ya too.”

The clock struck minute twenty-three. No one noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! I hope everyone liked it!!


End file.
